Post by "The Real Deal" Jason O'Neal on Feb 10, 2018 13:39:46 GMT -5
DATELINE: 2/6/2018 12:00pm – Jason O’Neal’s home – New Orleans, LA
“I’m done.”
:: Jason sits in his Scarface style office behind the desk he’s spent his entire adult life behind. To his right, his right hand and everything else, Stephanie O’Neal holding Gabriel Scott O’Neal his son. To his left, Greg “Gmoney” Johnson, a friend, mentor, and now: Father-in-law. Across the desk stood his top generals and business compadres, a network of gentlemen built in a ten year rise to the top of the World. The men sat in solemnness. Only fitting that it is Jason’s childhood friend to break the silence…
JEROME “THE BEAST” JENKINS: So what’s next?
:: The room perks up a bit…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Stability.
:: An unfamiliar face steps up to challenge the words…
THE UNNAMED GUY: You really think New York is going to let you have stability. These fuckers are after your kingdom.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: It’s not my kingdom now. Craig, it’s yours.
:: A shock went through the ten or so men in the room…
CRAIG: Me?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Who else?
:: Another unnamed man rises in protest…
UNAMED MAN 2: You are going to put Craig Crenshaw at the helm and jeopardize everything you’ve built for wrestling, a hoe, and an old fart? What fucking sense does tha…
:: A knife to heart wielded by Jerome Jenkins cut the sentence short. The man sinks to his knees…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Anyone else want to question how I do business?
:: The room is eerily silent as the protester is dragged out by one of Jason’s assistants…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Hearing no other protest, business as usual, Craig, dismiss them.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Move out and make money.
:: The crowd shuffles out daring not to utter a word until they are in the safe confines of privacy. Stephanie took the baby out of the room, giving Jason a kiss on the forehead as she leaves. Greg Johnson pulls up a chair to be a spectator to the next conversation. Craig Crenshaw asks the next obvious question…
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Why me?
:: Jason smirked…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Exactly.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: I don’t get it. You just signed my death certificate. Those blood thirsty fucks are going to kill me.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Are you alive now?
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Obviously.
:: He said it with a sarcastic tone…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: You are humble, but not stupid. You were the first one to step up and mention what we have built. Shit you built the shit with your sweat and blood. And, you don’t think you deserve it. Therefore, you will spend your every waking moment trying to deserve it. No one else in the room has the balls to challenge me and self-check to think he might be inadequate.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: So O’Neal Enterprises is now Crenshaw Corp?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Nah, motherfucker, my name is still on it. You fuck it up. I kill you. How man ships right now in the Persian Gulf with opium on them?
CRAIG CRENSHAW: There are twenty ships. Four are headed to Shanghai and the rest stateside. Miami, Houston, and New York. 50% is legal to the pharma companies which you own stock. 30% is yours and the other 20% is divided up being small time players.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: You think anyone else knew the answer to that question? Go make billions man. And don’t fuck up.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Gotcha boss.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: You’re the boss now. Consider me a consultant.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: That will kill me if I fuck up?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Best consultant ever.
:: Crenshaw smiles daps off O’Neal and Johnson and exits through the big double doors. When Craig clears the earshot, Jason stands and heads toward the door. He looks at Greg who remains seated…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Man, don’t you plan on eating lunch?
GREG JOHNSON: I thought you said you were done.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Don’t fucking start with this bullshit, Greg. I’m fucking walking away from what I love to move toward a fucking normal life. Walking away from greatness to go toward a place where they thinking a rabid bear is the shit.
GREG JOHNSON: I knew you were putting on a show for Stephanie. You hate this wrestling shit don’t you.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: If I hated it, would I be doing it. All I know is that twelve years on the streets, I have never been in so many surgeries and therapy as two years in WcF. But you fuckers consider that shit safe and stable. Let me put on my daddy-fucking-do-right drawers and do-fucking-right.
GREG JOHNSON: Daddy’s do right, Jason, that’s what they do.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Greg, I fucking walked away from the game.
GREG JOHNSON: You killed Craig Crenshaw. That boy ain’t ready.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Who the fuck is? I built that shit. I fucking run the shit. No one can do what I do.
GREG JOHNSON: Did.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I ain’t got time you’re your ghetto, Jedi mind tricks. Say what’s on your mind.
GREG JOHNSON: You put weak leadership in so you can sweep in a save the day. When Chicago and MS 13 find out you are away they will pick the city apart and the mayor is going to come knocking on your door to stabilize the shit again.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m not fucking batman, Greg. I’m Jason “Make Everyone Happy” O’Neal. I bash the fuck out of Teddy Sol with a baseball bat and end up in a match with Odin “I Need a Walker” Balfore. That’s what the fuck the universe wants. That’s what the fuck it gets. Now I want some Tacos… can I please get the shit I want?
GREG JOHNSON: What happens when Craig dies?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Better question, Greg, what happens when Gabriel and Stephanie die because I am out of the loop and don’t know what fucking movements are coming against me. I’m still a marked man, even if I don’t fucking live in that world. How many bullets do you dodge daily…?
GREG JOHNSON: I never was influential enough…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Exactly, so keep your Phil Jackson Meta-World-Peace hype to yourself. I got shit to figure out and I’m the only one who has my perspective.
GREG JOHNSON: So are you out or are you out, young gun?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m out of this conversation.
:: Jason turns to exit and Greg Johnson continues to sit contemplatively adjacent to the desk as the camera fades…
:: The wind is whistling in off the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain as Jason sits contemplating his past, his present, and his future. The WcF camera signals a promo shoot. Frustration shows on Jason’s face, but yet he obliges. Stability…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Just north of six fucking years. Six years in the WcF and countless other years in other promotions lighting the fucking world on fire. Still at the top of his game. Odin Balfore, The All Grandfather. Undeniably, one of the most decorated talents ever to step foot in the ring. The guy is top fucking notch. So why the fuck is he doing the bidding of Johnny Fucking Rabid? Why is he the lap dog? Sick ‘em Fido.
I show up, in arguably the most exciting return every in WcF… minus Joey Flash return number 5,086. That one really wowed the crowd, much better than 4,235 which to all critics was a little understated. I smash in the skull of Teo Del Sol, Teddy Pendergrass or whatever he is deciding to call himself and call out the fact that I invented the Omega Title and the more understood fact, that the title should be mine. Three weeks later, fucking crickets. Why? Because Johnny fucking Rabid is in charge with is merry band of queers and steers.
It takes me hijacking an opening segment on what was going to be a long line of low rated Slams, until I showed up, to be addressed by management. At that point, do I get a conversation with Rabid? Do I get Omega Chump Sol? Do I get thrown into the World Title Picture? No I get the 340 pound lap bitch. I don’t understand for the life of me why Odin Balfore would subject himself to the light work of the jackass clowns who are running the circus?
Stability at the top… stability… sta-motherfucking-bility. Just under two years, in contrast to the the six years of shit Odin Balfore has put in, in two years I have done everything to destroy what these fucks call stability at the top. Price beaten. Battle taken to the limit. Bates annoyed to ten realms of hell and taken to the limit. Slane ain’t fucking here anymore. Dion Necurat got a fucking title shot. FPV got his second title. I fucking beat Joey Flash. Sanchez and Rabid are behind me in line. Stability at the top my ass. I shook things up. Jason O’Neal is back and there is no stability to be had. Who else wants a fucking shot?
Honestly, for these mooks, stability at the top means giving Steven Singh a match with Mathew Black. Fucking stable there. It’s like we transformed back to a world where Joey Flash is still relevant and taking on trash after trash. Regardless of how Holmes made it look, the pin was had by Jason O’Neal. These fucks can re-write history to keep their oligarchy and select few on top, but any candid eye can see the truth. For some reason, Odin Balfore plays the role as the stabilizer and prides himself on a career that peaked in 2012 and has been in the shadows of all the bullshit he helped stabilize.
Odin will continue to be that guy. The guy they call off the shelf of history to put a loud mouth punk in his place. He might get a push to a World Title Tournament, but in some back room somewhere… hey stability at the top comes first. Then he does what Rosa Parks didn’t do, back of the bus, Fido.
:: Jason turns his attention away from talking about the current situation in the WcF and looks at the cameraman…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Is that enough tape for you in this shot?
:: Getting the affirmative, the camera fades out…
DATELINE: 2/9/2018 7:12pm – Jason O’Neal’s home – New Orleans, LA
No, Mayor Landrieu, Jason is not fielding any calls at this time.
:: Jason is rocking the baby to sleep in his arms as Stephanie comes in the room holding Jason’s cellphone…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I know its Mardi Gras. We have already sent our donation to the city for extra law enforcement.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL(Whispering): Tell him to call Crenshaw.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I’ve told you to call Mr. Crenshaw if you want to put pressure on groups to keep the streets safe. He is running operations now…. What? It’s only been three days. What do you mean you found his body washed up in a canal?
:: Jason hands the baby off to an assistant who scurries off. Jason tries to gain position to get the phone away from his wife…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Give me the phone Steph.
:: She manages to maintain a defensive posture and speak to the mayor at the same time…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I don’t know what to tell you. Jason is done with that chapter in his life. Goodbye, sir.
:: The phone audibly ended the call…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Tell me you didn’t.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Tell me you haven’t been talking to daddy dearest.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: He told me you were reluctant to leave the streets and picked a weak leader to have an escape route.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: An escape from what?
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Domestic life.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m on the road every weekend. What more escape would I need? If you are asking if I had a man killed to escape my son, you need to rethink you psychology studies.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: So why did you have him killed?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I did not have him killed nor did I kill him, Steph. I’m done.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: So what happen next?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Power vacuum. War. Weak leadership. Stupid decisions. Favoritism. Chaos. A select few will try to stabilize the ones that reject that stupidity.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Are we talking about New Orleans and your empire or the WcF?
"THE REAL DEAL" JASON O"NEAL: How does this relate to WcF?
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: John Rabid’s administration.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: What the fuck are you smoking? Once again, my life never has…doesn’t and never will revolve around wrestling. It is a side-note to make you happy. It is a side note to make Greg happy. It is a side note to give Gabriel something to do besides having to kill.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Are we safe in this war?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: No.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: What can Rabid do to us?
:: Jason’s face drops. This is incredulous…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Wrestling cannot hurt you. Fuck there are laws and shit there. It’s a fucking athletic competition show. They can make it difficult to rise or even get paid, but they will never be able to make me, you, or for that matter anyone unsafe. Unless stupidly, like me, you sign a waiver to get into the ring with a bear.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I told you it was a bad idea.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: And it’s a bad idea leaving the empire.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: It’s all about stability Jason.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: If you say so. I just got to figure out the next move. This will rock confidence in the O’Neal Enterprise.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: No you don’t.
:: The aid brings the baby back to the new parents…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Thanks Agatha. (To Jason) This is your concern now.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: He was my concern twelve years ago when I first started my life.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Give him the stable life you never had.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Yeah…
:: The camera fades…
DATELINE: 2/10/18 8:12 am – Pittsburg International Airport – Pittsburg, PA
:: Jason’s private jet has arrived and Jason is about to disembark. Hundreds of WcF fans line the terminal exit to greet the superstar as he makes his way to his awaiting car…
INDISCRIMINATE VOICE IN THE CROWD: There he is!!!
:: The cameras flash, the selfies are taken, and the autographs are signed as Jason disembarks and walks through the terminal to the Rolls Royce Phantom that is awaiting his arrival. Jason walks as if he is strolling in the park and not a care in the world. The smiles with fans and cheap high fives he gives pings him at every turn. Hundreds of fans and hundreds of headaches. Finally in the sanctity and privacy of his car, with the door shut, he can breathe. He is alone. FUCK… the WcF camera. Alone, but not so much…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Another one?
FROM BEHIND THE CAMERA: Production said this is biggest mainevent on Slam in months and they don’t want to waste it with your one minute rant you give all the time.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: So they need me bring the heat on Odin Balfore?
FROM BEHIND THE CAMERA: Essentially yes.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Get the fuck out of my car.
:: The last thing the camera sees are the taillights of Jason O’Neal’s car as his driver pulls away from the curb, leaving the camera man…
DATELINE: 2/10/18 9:15 am – Fairmont Hotel – Pittsburg, PA
Really?
BEHIND THE CAMERA: Contractually obligated.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Can I not even settle into my room?
:: Indeed Jason O’Neal had just arrived at the Luxury Hotel and the first person he comes into contact with is a WcF cameraman…
CAMERA MAN: We have a shoot center set up down the hall to the left. Let’s get this out of the way…
:: Jason is visibly annoyed by obliges anyway. The camera fades, but picks back up again with Jason O’Neal standing in front of a WcF back drop…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Odin… I’m quite fucking sure you have never and will never watch any footage of little ol’ me. I am far beyond your epicness for you to waste your time on. You are leagues above my level. You are they mother fucking shit. The Grandfather, The All Spark, Thor and whatever bullshit your male escort calls you so you can reach satisfaction while he pulls you hair. I’m pretty sure that you think you are going to run through me like a freight train because you somehow in your dim witted brain have compared me to a chump like Steven Singh.
I’m also quite sure you are out of your fucking mind if you think that. Stop drinking your own Kool-aid you over grown ape. You haven’t done anything of any relevance since 2012. I’m not calling you washed up because motherfucker you still got it. But what the hell have you done for me lately. Congrats Odin, you are the Dallas Cowboys of the WcF. You look flashy. Dak Prescot and all his rookie glory. Bitches ain’t been relevant since the 1990s.
Now, by no means am I the Patriots. Shit I’m more like the Saints. The team that was flash in the pan and then got fucking short changed due to bounty gate or stability at the top. Odin the fact is that yeah the Cowboys might be America’s team and be a household name, but they fucking suck. They are not rising and much like you will disappoint millions of fans.
Odin, I want you to get something through you thick skull. The fact is that you have been here seven years and I’ve been here for two. Yet, we are in the same spot. You can give whatever reason to this you want, but one of two things are for sure… either you are not as good as you think you are OR I am not as bad as you think I am.
I came back and wanted nothing more than the Omega Title. A title I fucking created. A title that I demonstrated. A title that I put in the minds of everyone. At that point, John Rabid, seeing the shithole this place has become said, “O’Neal is better than the Omega Title, let’s put him against the All Spark and see if… just if… we can have him compete in the World Title Picture. Yes, that way we can protect Teddy’s fragile soul and prevent him from breaking down and departing and get a legit person into hunt.”
:: Jason smirks…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Knowing Rabid, I can picture how that happened. Right? Yeah… we both know that at the end of the day, you fucks were drinking your shit champagne and discussing whose career you can ruin next and all of sudden there’s O’Neal with a baseball bat to Teddy. “Fuck,” Rabid said. “Maybe he will go away,” Price said. Then three weeks later… I call those fucks out for the bullshit they are. “Oh… no… he’s back,” Rabid quivered. “Sick Fido on him. Here… Fido…,” Price’s idea nonetheless. Here comes Odin… wagging his little fluffy ass ponytail and ready to do their bidding.
You see Odin, you just don’t get it. You can fucking claim greatness by beating me, but all I am here to do is to soften you up for Steven Singh to keep the title. Notice his punk ass has Mathew Black who is as challenging as a hang nail. These execs don’t respect you bitch… you are and will always be their bitch and nothing more.
I know, Odin, cognitive dissonance is bitch. Realizing what everyone else has known about you from day one. You are a pawn. A show pony who they tout to look good on a poster and let children idolize you. Meanwhile you cling to a little success in 2012 and claim to be the best.
I, on the other hand, don’t even give two shits about the business. I just hate to see fake ass people. Or real people get screwed by fake ass people. You can call it a disease if you want, sir. But before me, none of those people would have gotten an opportunity. Shit even Singh owes me a part of his title. This business is a fucking scourge on the planet. Only an insane fuck would make this their life. It seems, Captain Insane-O that you have. The only thing that makes you great is what you have done in the ring. And you like it that way. Come-on man get two cents worth of a life and realize you are a pawn in a much bigger game. I used chumps like you every day in my Enterprise.
Odin, I wish I could hype this match, but quite frankly it is a farce. A guy who has never heard of his opponent facing someone who doesn’t give two shits about his opponent and wanted to fight someone else. This is typical John Rabid. How do you think he became the longest reigning TV champ? By facing guys like Mathew Black as champion. I guess Teddy will be the longest reigning Omega Champ because they are protecting his ass like someone in a bubble.
I had a chance to watch your production and, after I woke up from a long nap caused by you incessant reliance on hyperbole and your resume, I found nothing to be impressive. My return may have been lackluster on your account, but shit your entire existence has been lack luster since 2012. I’m not going to claim to go out there and rip you limb from limb because that would make you even more useless than you currently are. I am simply going to win the match. A simple pin. One, two, three… and move on to something more than some guy who is Rabid’s bitch. A guy who damn near prides himself in that role.
Wrestling is not my life, Balfore, I need you to understand that. It is a means to an end. A way to keep my family intact, stable if you will. They fans who love me because I call it like I see it can go suck a dick because they feed the bullshit without even knowing it. I am Joker to the WcF Batman. Without me… Batman is irrelevant. However, with my existence, it grows stronger. Odin… you are flat… the opposite of dynamic and quite frankly you are a sad representation of everything these fucks at the top are trying to keep.
I don’t keep my win-loss record or who I beat in my back pocket. Shit I don’t even know. However, I do know when I caused a ripple in the time space continuum. What the fuck have you done lately? After this match, win, lose or draw… chances are you will continue your bright and shiny role as protector of the bitch league and I will most likely continue scratching and clawing to change a system that is so utterly broken. Neither of the two shall meet again. You can go back to your delusion that I am not a threat and you don’t think about me. Never having to face the reality that you spent ten minutes worrying about me in a promo. Your paradox will end and we can go our separate ways from a force fed match that these idiot fans will eat up. A match between a sideshow freak and the guy with the balls to call him a sideshow bitch. A match neither of the two wanted or care to be in, but none the less… we are here and heading towards a new definition of stability.
:: The camera fades and as it fades Jason O’Neal’s voice can be heard…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Jason O’Neal disease is the best thing that has happened to this shit. We’ve already amputated a lot of dead weight since I got here. One more to go… Odin.
:: Camera fades out…
“I’m done.”
:: Jason sits in his Scarface style office behind the desk he’s spent his entire adult life behind. To his right, his right hand and everything else, Stephanie O’Neal holding Gabriel Scott O’Neal his son. To his left, Greg “Gmoney” Johnson, a friend, mentor, and now: Father-in-law. Across the desk stood his top generals and business compadres, a network of gentlemen built in a ten year rise to the top of the World. The men sat in solemnness. Only fitting that it is Jason’s childhood friend to break the silence…
JEROME “THE BEAST” JENKINS: So what’s next?
:: The room perks up a bit…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Stability.
:: An unfamiliar face steps up to challenge the words…
THE UNNAMED GUY: You really think New York is going to let you have stability. These fuckers are after your kingdom.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: It’s not my kingdom now. Craig, it’s yours.
:: A shock went through the ten or so men in the room…
CRAIG: Me?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Who else?
:: Another unnamed man rises in protest…
UNAMED MAN 2: You are going to put Craig Crenshaw at the helm and jeopardize everything you’ve built for wrestling, a hoe, and an old fart? What fucking sense does tha…
:: A knife to heart wielded by Jerome Jenkins cut the sentence short. The man sinks to his knees…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Anyone else want to question how I do business?
:: The room is eerily silent as the protester is dragged out by one of Jason’s assistants…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Hearing no other protest, business as usual, Craig, dismiss them.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Move out and make money.
:: The crowd shuffles out daring not to utter a word until they are in the safe confines of privacy. Stephanie took the baby out of the room, giving Jason a kiss on the forehead as she leaves. Greg Johnson pulls up a chair to be a spectator to the next conversation. Craig Crenshaw asks the next obvious question…
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Why me?
:: Jason smirked…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Exactly.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: I don’t get it. You just signed my death certificate. Those blood thirsty fucks are going to kill me.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Are you alive now?
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Obviously.
:: He said it with a sarcastic tone…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: You are humble, but not stupid. You were the first one to step up and mention what we have built. Shit you built the shit with your sweat and blood. And, you don’t think you deserve it. Therefore, you will spend your every waking moment trying to deserve it. No one else in the room has the balls to challenge me and self-check to think he might be inadequate.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: So O’Neal Enterprises is now Crenshaw Corp?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Nah, motherfucker, my name is still on it. You fuck it up. I kill you. How man ships right now in the Persian Gulf with opium on them?
CRAIG CRENSHAW: There are twenty ships. Four are headed to Shanghai and the rest stateside. Miami, Houston, and New York. 50% is legal to the pharma companies which you own stock. 30% is yours and the other 20% is divided up being small time players.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: You think anyone else knew the answer to that question? Go make billions man. And don’t fuck up.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: Gotcha boss.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: You’re the boss now. Consider me a consultant.
CRAIG CRENSHAW: That will kill me if I fuck up?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Best consultant ever.
:: Crenshaw smiles daps off O’Neal and Johnson and exits through the big double doors. When Craig clears the earshot, Jason stands and heads toward the door. He looks at Greg who remains seated…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Man, don’t you plan on eating lunch?
GREG JOHNSON: I thought you said you were done.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Don’t fucking start with this bullshit, Greg. I’m fucking walking away from what I love to move toward a fucking normal life. Walking away from greatness to go toward a place where they thinking a rabid bear is the shit.
GREG JOHNSON: I knew you were putting on a show for Stephanie. You hate this wrestling shit don’t you.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: If I hated it, would I be doing it. All I know is that twelve years on the streets, I have never been in so many surgeries and therapy as two years in WcF. But you fuckers consider that shit safe and stable. Let me put on my daddy-fucking-do-right drawers and do-fucking-right.
GREG JOHNSON: Daddy’s do right, Jason, that’s what they do.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Greg, I fucking walked away from the game.
GREG JOHNSON: You killed Craig Crenshaw. That boy ain’t ready.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Who the fuck is? I built that shit. I fucking run the shit. No one can do what I do.
GREG JOHNSON: Did.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I ain’t got time you’re your ghetto, Jedi mind tricks. Say what’s on your mind.
GREG JOHNSON: You put weak leadership in so you can sweep in a save the day. When Chicago and MS 13 find out you are away they will pick the city apart and the mayor is going to come knocking on your door to stabilize the shit again.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m not fucking batman, Greg. I’m Jason “Make Everyone Happy” O’Neal. I bash the fuck out of Teddy Sol with a baseball bat and end up in a match with Odin “I Need a Walker” Balfore. That’s what the fuck the universe wants. That’s what the fuck it gets. Now I want some Tacos… can I please get the shit I want?
GREG JOHNSON: What happens when Craig dies?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Better question, Greg, what happens when Gabriel and Stephanie die because I am out of the loop and don’t know what fucking movements are coming against me. I’m still a marked man, even if I don’t fucking live in that world. How many bullets do you dodge daily…?
GREG JOHNSON: I never was influential enough…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Exactly, so keep your Phil Jackson Meta-World-Peace hype to yourself. I got shit to figure out and I’m the only one who has my perspective.
GREG JOHNSON: So are you out or are you out, young gun?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m out of this conversation.
:: Jason turns to exit and Greg Johnson continues to sit contemplatively adjacent to the desk as the camera fades…
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DATELINE: 2/7/2018 3:13pm – New Orleans Lake Front – New Orleans, LA:: The wind is whistling in off the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain as Jason sits contemplating his past, his present, and his future. The WcF camera signals a promo shoot. Frustration shows on Jason’s face, but yet he obliges. Stability…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Just north of six fucking years. Six years in the WcF and countless other years in other promotions lighting the fucking world on fire. Still at the top of his game. Odin Balfore, The All Grandfather. Undeniably, one of the most decorated talents ever to step foot in the ring. The guy is top fucking notch. So why the fuck is he doing the bidding of Johnny Fucking Rabid? Why is he the lap dog? Sick ‘em Fido.
I show up, in arguably the most exciting return every in WcF… minus Joey Flash return number 5,086. That one really wowed the crowd, much better than 4,235 which to all critics was a little understated. I smash in the skull of Teo Del Sol, Teddy Pendergrass or whatever he is deciding to call himself and call out the fact that I invented the Omega Title and the more understood fact, that the title should be mine. Three weeks later, fucking crickets. Why? Because Johnny fucking Rabid is in charge with is merry band of queers and steers.
It takes me hijacking an opening segment on what was going to be a long line of low rated Slams, until I showed up, to be addressed by management. At that point, do I get a conversation with Rabid? Do I get Omega Chump Sol? Do I get thrown into the World Title Picture? No I get the 340 pound lap bitch. I don’t understand for the life of me why Odin Balfore would subject himself to the light work of the jackass clowns who are running the circus?
Stability at the top… stability… sta-motherfucking-bility. Just under two years, in contrast to the the six years of shit Odin Balfore has put in, in two years I have done everything to destroy what these fucks call stability at the top. Price beaten. Battle taken to the limit. Bates annoyed to ten realms of hell and taken to the limit. Slane ain’t fucking here anymore. Dion Necurat got a fucking title shot. FPV got his second title. I fucking beat Joey Flash. Sanchez and Rabid are behind me in line. Stability at the top my ass. I shook things up. Jason O’Neal is back and there is no stability to be had. Who else wants a fucking shot?
Honestly, for these mooks, stability at the top means giving Steven Singh a match with Mathew Black. Fucking stable there. It’s like we transformed back to a world where Joey Flash is still relevant and taking on trash after trash. Regardless of how Holmes made it look, the pin was had by Jason O’Neal. These fucks can re-write history to keep their oligarchy and select few on top, but any candid eye can see the truth. For some reason, Odin Balfore plays the role as the stabilizer and prides himself on a career that peaked in 2012 and has been in the shadows of all the bullshit he helped stabilize.
Odin will continue to be that guy. The guy they call off the shelf of history to put a loud mouth punk in his place. He might get a push to a World Title Tournament, but in some back room somewhere… hey stability at the top comes first. Then he does what Rosa Parks didn’t do, back of the bus, Fido.
:: Jason turns his attention away from talking about the current situation in the WcF and looks at the cameraman…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Is that enough tape for you in this shot?
:: Getting the affirmative, the camera fades out…
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DATELINE: 2/9/2018 7:12pm – Jason O’Neal’s home – New Orleans, LA
No, Mayor Landrieu, Jason is not fielding any calls at this time.
:: Jason is rocking the baby to sleep in his arms as Stephanie comes in the room holding Jason’s cellphone…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I know its Mardi Gras. We have already sent our donation to the city for extra law enforcement.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL(Whispering): Tell him to call Crenshaw.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I’ve told you to call Mr. Crenshaw if you want to put pressure on groups to keep the streets safe. He is running operations now…. What? It’s only been three days. What do you mean you found his body washed up in a canal?
:: Jason hands the baby off to an assistant who scurries off. Jason tries to gain position to get the phone away from his wife…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Give me the phone Steph.
:: She manages to maintain a defensive posture and speak to the mayor at the same time…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I don’t know what to tell you. Jason is done with that chapter in his life. Goodbye, sir.
:: The phone audibly ended the call…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Tell me you didn’t.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Tell me you haven’t been talking to daddy dearest.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: He told me you were reluctant to leave the streets and picked a weak leader to have an escape route.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: An escape from what?
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Domestic life.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I’m on the road every weekend. What more escape would I need? If you are asking if I had a man killed to escape my son, you need to rethink you psychology studies.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: So why did you have him killed?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: I did not have him killed nor did I kill him, Steph. I’m done.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: So what happen next?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Power vacuum. War. Weak leadership. Stupid decisions. Favoritism. Chaos. A select few will try to stabilize the ones that reject that stupidity.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Are we talking about New Orleans and your empire or the WcF?
"THE REAL DEAL" JASON O"NEAL: How does this relate to WcF?
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: John Rabid’s administration.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: What the fuck are you smoking? Once again, my life never has…doesn’t and never will revolve around wrestling. It is a side-note to make you happy. It is a side note to make Greg happy. It is a side note to give Gabriel something to do besides having to kill.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Are we safe in this war?
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: No.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: What can Rabid do to us?
:: Jason’s face drops. This is incredulous…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Wrestling cannot hurt you. Fuck there are laws and shit there. It’s a fucking athletic competition show. They can make it difficult to rise or even get paid, but they will never be able to make me, you, or for that matter anyone unsafe. Unless stupidly, like me, you sign a waiver to get into the ring with a bear.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: I told you it was a bad idea.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: And it’s a bad idea leaving the empire.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: It’s all about stability Jason.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: If you say so. I just got to figure out the next move. This will rock confidence in the O’Neal Enterprise.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: No you don’t.
:: The aid brings the baby back to the new parents…
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Thanks Agatha. (To Jason) This is your concern now.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: He was my concern twelve years ago when I first started my life.
STEPHANIE O’NEAL: Give him the stable life you never had.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Yeah…
:: The camera fades…
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DATELINE: 2/10/18 8:12 am – Pittsburg International Airport – Pittsburg, PA
:: Jason’s private jet has arrived and Jason is about to disembark. Hundreds of WcF fans line the terminal exit to greet the superstar as he makes his way to his awaiting car…
INDISCRIMINATE VOICE IN THE CROWD: There he is!!!
:: The cameras flash, the selfies are taken, and the autographs are signed as Jason disembarks and walks through the terminal to the Rolls Royce Phantom that is awaiting his arrival. Jason walks as if he is strolling in the park and not a care in the world. The smiles with fans and cheap high fives he gives pings him at every turn. Hundreds of fans and hundreds of headaches. Finally in the sanctity and privacy of his car, with the door shut, he can breathe. He is alone. FUCK… the WcF camera. Alone, but not so much…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Another one?
FROM BEHIND THE CAMERA: Production said this is biggest mainevent on Slam in months and they don’t want to waste it with your one minute rant you give all the time.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: So they need me bring the heat on Odin Balfore?
FROM BEHIND THE CAMERA: Essentially yes.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Get the fuck out of my car.
:: The last thing the camera sees are the taillights of Jason O’Neal’s car as his driver pulls away from the curb, leaving the camera man…
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DATELINE: 2/10/18 9:15 am – Fairmont Hotel – Pittsburg, PA
Really?
BEHIND THE CAMERA: Contractually obligated.
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Can I not even settle into my room?
:: Indeed Jason O’Neal had just arrived at the Luxury Hotel and the first person he comes into contact with is a WcF cameraman…
CAMERA MAN: We have a shoot center set up down the hall to the left. Let’s get this out of the way…
:: Jason is visibly annoyed by obliges anyway. The camera fades, but picks back up again with Jason O’Neal standing in front of a WcF back drop…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Odin… I’m quite fucking sure you have never and will never watch any footage of little ol’ me. I am far beyond your epicness for you to waste your time on. You are leagues above my level. You are they mother fucking shit. The Grandfather, The All Spark, Thor and whatever bullshit your male escort calls you so you can reach satisfaction while he pulls you hair. I’m pretty sure that you think you are going to run through me like a freight train because you somehow in your dim witted brain have compared me to a chump like Steven Singh.
I’m also quite sure you are out of your fucking mind if you think that. Stop drinking your own Kool-aid you over grown ape. You haven’t done anything of any relevance since 2012. I’m not calling you washed up because motherfucker you still got it. But what the hell have you done for me lately. Congrats Odin, you are the Dallas Cowboys of the WcF. You look flashy. Dak Prescot and all his rookie glory. Bitches ain’t been relevant since the 1990s.
Now, by no means am I the Patriots. Shit I’m more like the Saints. The team that was flash in the pan and then got fucking short changed due to bounty gate or stability at the top. Odin the fact is that yeah the Cowboys might be America’s team and be a household name, but they fucking suck. They are not rising and much like you will disappoint millions of fans.
Odin, I want you to get something through you thick skull. The fact is that you have been here seven years and I’ve been here for two. Yet, we are in the same spot. You can give whatever reason to this you want, but one of two things are for sure… either you are not as good as you think you are OR I am not as bad as you think I am.
I came back and wanted nothing more than the Omega Title. A title I fucking created. A title that I demonstrated. A title that I put in the minds of everyone. At that point, John Rabid, seeing the shithole this place has become said, “O’Neal is better than the Omega Title, let’s put him against the All Spark and see if… just if… we can have him compete in the World Title Picture. Yes, that way we can protect Teddy’s fragile soul and prevent him from breaking down and departing and get a legit person into hunt.”
:: Jason smirks…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Knowing Rabid, I can picture how that happened. Right? Yeah… we both know that at the end of the day, you fucks were drinking your shit champagne and discussing whose career you can ruin next and all of sudden there’s O’Neal with a baseball bat to Teddy. “Fuck,” Rabid said. “Maybe he will go away,” Price said. Then three weeks later… I call those fucks out for the bullshit they are. “Oh… no… he’s back,” Rabid quivered. “Sick Fido on him. Here… Fido…,” Price’s idea nonetheless. Here comes Odin… wagging his little fluffy ass ponytail and ready to do their bidding.
You see Odin, you just don’t get it. You can fucking claim greatness by beating me, but all I am here to do is to soften you up for Steven Singh to keep the title. Notice his punk ass has Mathew Black who is as challenging as a hang nail. These execs don’t respect you bitch… you are and will always be their bitch and nothing more.
I know, Odin, cognitive dissonance is bitch. Realizing what everyone else has known about you from day one. You are a pawn. A show pony who they tout to look good on a poster and let children idolize you. Meanwhile you cling to a little success in 2012 and claim to be the best.
I, on the other hand, don’t even give two shits about the business. I just hate to see fake ass people. Or real people get screwed by fake ass people. You can call it a disease if you want, sir. But before me, none of those people would have gotten an opportunity. Shit even Singh owes me a part of his title. This business is a fucking scourge on the planet. Only an insane fuck would make this their life. It seems, Captain Insane-O that you have. The only thing that makes you great is what you have done in the ring. And you like it that way. Come-on man get two cents worth of a life and realize you are a pawn in a much bigger game. I used chumps like you every day in my Enterprise.
Odin, I wish I could hype this match, but quite frankly it is a farce. A guy who has never heard of his opponent facing someone who doesn’t give two shits about his opponent and wanted to fight someone else. This is typical John Rabid. How do you think he became the longest reigning TV champ? By facing guys like Mathew Black as champion. I guess Teddy will be the longest reigning Omega Champ because they are protecting his ass like someone in a bubble.
I had a chance to watch your production and, after I woke up from a long nap caused by you incessant reliance on hyperbole and your resume, I found nothing to be impressive. My return may have been lackluster on your account, but shit your entire existence has been lack luster since 2012. I’m not going to claim to go out there and rip you limb from limb because that would make you even more useless than you currently are. I am simply going to win the match. A simple pin. One, two, three… and move on to something more than some guy who is Rabid’s bitch. A guy who damn near prides himself in that role.
Wrestling is not my life, Balfore, I need you to understand that. It is a means to an end. A way to keep my family intact, stable if you will. They fans who love me because I call it like I see it can go suck a dick because they feed the bullshit without even knowing it. I am Joker to the WcF Batman. Without me… Batman is irrelevant. However, with my existence, it grows stronger. Odin… you are flat… the opposite of dynamic and quite frankly you are a sad representation of everything these fucks at the top are trying to keep.
I don’t keep my win-loss record or who I beat in my back pocket. Shit I don’t even know. However, I do know when I caused a ripple in the time space continuum. What the fuck have you done lately? After this match, win, lose or draw… chances are you will continue your bright and shiny role as protector of the bitch league and I will most likely continue scratching and clawing to change a system that is so utterly broken. Neither of the two shall meet again. You can go back to your delusion that I am not a threat and you don’t think about me. Never having to face the reality that you spent ten minutes worrying about me in a promo. Your paradox will end and we can go our separate ways from a force fed match that these idiot fans will eat up. A match between a sideshow freak and the guy with the balls to call him a sideshow bitch. A match neither of the two wanted or care to be in, but none the less… we are here and heading towards a new definition of stability.
:: The camera fades and as it fades Jason O’Neal’s voice can be heard…
“THE REAL DEAL” JASON O’NEAL: Jason O’Neal disease is the best thing that has happened to this shit. We’ve already amputated a lot of dead weight since I got here. One more to go… Odin.
:: Camera fades out…